Something Left
by untitled1494
Summary: Andromeda Tonks' life, as characterized by babies: Narcissa Black, Nymphadora Tonks, and Ted Lupin, and her thoughts with each


Andromeda Tonks sat on her bed, a baby in her arms, crying.

This situation has happened three times in her lifetime.

* * *

The first time, the name of the baby was Narcissa Black:

Andromeda Black sat on her bed, a baby in her arms, crying. She hadn't told anyone, of course, but she was devastated that the baby was a girl. She had so wanted a little brother. A little boy that she could act mother to while Druella was off disregarding her parenting responsibilities. With another girl in the family, she knew Druella would take the child over, turn her into the prim and perfect pureblood that rebellious Bella and out-going Andy could never be. With a boy, she knew, her mother would disregard it thinking it didn't need raising to be exactly who she wanted it to be. "A boy doesn't need taming. Girls need guidelines, as you two have so disgracefully proved," she had once said to Andy and Bella. Andy did love her mother, but she did not love her lifestyle. She had silently rebelled in different ways than her unbridled older sister. Tried as she might to understand, she could never get a grip on _why _the mudbloods so often spoken of in disgust were any different from themselves. In her mind, she expected to go to Hogwarts and see why they were so disgusting, but until she had proof, her self-created values wouldn't let her say anything against them. She wanted a boy that she could teach these values to, not a girl that would be so corrupted by their mother, she might well be the same person. She knew it would happen. She knew her mother. She knew what her mother would do. This innocent little child, sleeping in Andy's arms, so full of potential. She could be anybody, any kind of saint or genius. She would be ruined. Her mother would ruin her.

* * *

The second time, the baby's name was Nymphadora Tonks:

Andromeda Tonks sat on her bed, a baby in her arms, crying. There, sleeping in her arms was _her _daughter. She was in disbelief. She had a child of her own. Someone to whom she could direct the maternal energy swelling inside her since her own birth. Someone to whom she could teach her values, that muggles and muggle-borns were just as respectable as themselves. That everyone was equal. To always be kind and honest. This child would be as perfect in her adulthood as she was in infantry, sleeping beautifully in her mother's arms. However, tears streamed down her face, they formed continuous rivulets on her cheeks. This child would never know her aunt Bellatrix. That wild crazy girl that introduced Andy to the future. The idea that you could be anyone or anything, you needn't let your family hold you back. The rebellious eleven-year-old that told a wondered Andy stories of Hogwarts castle and all its majesties. The rambunctious little girl that did what she pleased, and disregarded any rules that may try to bind her, who showed Andy what it was like to go on an adventure. Andromeda's daughter would never know her, because she no longer existed. Now, Bellatrix Black was Bellatrix Lestrange, a cruel being of a witch, most certainly a Death Eater, whose prejudices and hatred and power pains had over ridden her, and pushed out any trace of love or caring in her. Bellatrix Lestrange was not this baby's aunt, and she was not this mother's sister. This baby would never know any of her relatives. The family that her mother had grown up with, Narcissa, Rugulus, Sirius, Andy's best friends, no longer existed. Now, they were a family in their own, of which Andromeda Tonks was not a part of. They were a family of Death Eaters and dark wizards. Andromeda cried because her child didn't have the family Andy had imagined she would. Her family was gone.

* * *

The third time it happened, the baby was named Ted Lupin:

Andromeda Tonks sat on her bed, a baby in her arms, crying. She was crying harder than she had in her life. She was crying because her family was dead. Her husband, who had rescued her from the terrors of the Black family, was dead. Her daughter, who Andromeda all but lived for, was dead. Her son-in-law, the little boy that the almost dormant young Andy wanted for a little brother, was dead. Her cousin, who she had only just been reunited with as the other part of her family that had escaped, was dead. She was crying because her sister was dead, and she was glad about it. How could she be glad that her own sister is dead? The sister that taught her to ride a broom was dead. No, she told herself, that sister was dead a long time ago. This new sister deserved death, she deserved worse than she got. All the people that suffered and died at her hands... Now she really had no family, she thought. None. All of them were gone, but for the sleeping child in her arms, thick turquoise hair so similar to his mother's, long, thin nose so like his father's. This child was all that was left. Andromeda was crying because Teddy was alive. How, after so much death and destruction, could anything be left? It was cruel that he would grow without parents, that all he had was Andromeda, when all she had was him. Andromeda put her finger, elephantine by his small ones, to his face. She stroked his cheek, and ears, and his nose; his hair. Her family was still here, in a way, her Nymphadora and her Nymphadora's Remus lived on in this baby, didn't they? And as long as Nymphadora lived on, so would Ted, her husband whose love and caring had been base for Dora's whole personality. Andromeda had Teddy, so Andromeda had family. Andromeda did have something left.

* * *

_-reviews make me happy_


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